


Warming Up

by spinner_atropos



Category: The Tick (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, questionable decisions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 16:02:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20294176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinner_atropos/pseuds/spinner_atropos
Summary: "This is bullshit."





	Warming Up

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Kiss and Run](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18844486) by [jazzypizzaz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jazzypizzaz/pseuds/jazzypizzaz). 

> Tip of the hat to jazzypizzaz; inspired by the paragraph in "Kiss and Run" that makes me laugh the hardest.
> 
> This was expected to just be the preamble to some PwP but it turned into a whole damn thing.

"This is bullshit." The modulator on her mask couldn't filter out her tone of disgust. She was getting soggy from above due to the chill drizzle seeping through her clothing, and soggy from below due to the water collecting on the rubber roof they were lying on. The temperature was dropping and she was starting to shiver, which made it almost impossible to keep her binoculars focused on the building they were watching.

"It's a stakeout," Overkill replied. "Keep your voice down."

Because the mission was surveillance rather than active combat or infiltration, they were wearing tactical pants and high-tech protective nanofiber jackets rather than body armor. It was more comfortable and lightweight, and Dot referred to it as "business casual" just to annoy Overkill. Unfortunately it didn't offer a lot of protection against rain. "Well, it's a stakeout that has had absolutely. Nothing. Happen," she whispered back. They'd been there since eleven, and it had to be at least three AM, and they'd seen no activity whatsoever. "What was the most likely time for the drop to take place?"

"An hour ago," he admitted.

"How much longer are we going to be here?"

"Another hour. Just to be sure."

She sighed. "The weather didn't say it was going to be _cold_."

He turned his head enough to see her, the blue glow of his cybernetic eyes faintly visible.. "C'mere."

He couldn't see the eyebrow she raised at the command. "Excuse me?"

"Come here."

She slid sideways to him, puzzled. When she was side-by-side with him he moved over her, covering her. The unexpected full-body contact disabled her higher functions and kicked her hormones into overdrive. This was going to be the longest hour *ever.* "This is not a solution I would have thought of," she managed, in a reasonably steady voice.

"You were complaining about being cold and wet," he said. His voice vibrated through her in a most... interesting way.

She wouldn't be cold anymore, but wet was another story.

They were quiet for a while. There wasn't a lot of body heat being transferred through the jackets, but she was feeling awfully warm inside. Being sheltered from the mist and cold air wasn't bad either.

"Northwest," she said as she spotted movement. They watched intently as two people walked down they alley, heads down against the chill. They didn't change speed or direction, and kept walking until they were out of sight. "Forget I said anything." She shifted uncomfortably on the hard roof, moving against Overkill in the process. She felt pressure against her buttocks and froze. Apparently she wasn't the only one having inappropriate reactions to their position. "So, what's up with you?" she asked fake-casually, as if making small talk. He didn't answer. "Anything I could help with?" Still no response.

She moved again and felt his hard-on twitch. His inhalation was loud enough to hear through his mask. "Any plans after this? You could warm up at my place. You must be cold too." She felt like she'd never propositioned someone quite so openly yet obliquely.

Minutes passed. "It's almost five," he finally said, ignoring her question. "I don't think anything is going to happen tonight." Was he indirectly declining her indirect offer? He pushed up into a kneeling position, which set off a whole new round of hormone-fueled imaginings, then sat back on his heels. She rolled onto her back and took his offered hand; he pulled her up with him as he stood.

They were face-to-face, toe-to-toe. Their masks prevented any reading of expressions. "Are you hungry? I'm starved." Dinner had been a very long time ago.

"I could eat." He led the way down the stairwell to ground level.

"Fast food or diner food?"

"Take-out diner food?"

"I know just the place. I used to get breakfast there after overnight shifts."

It was less windy on the street, but still drizzly. 'Do you know where we parked?"

"Of course.". They zigzagged silently, keeping an eye out for possible tails or clues that might make the night not a total washout.

***  


Dot slid back into the driver's seat handed the food to Overkill. "Where are we taking this out to?"

A non-committal motion that might have been a shrug. "Your place is closer." He ate a French fry.

"Hey, you wanted the hash browns. The fries are mine."   
  
"Not that one."


End file.
